


Jesse

by roughlycut



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Teenagers, Anxiety, Dysphoria, Gen, Menstruation, Teenagers, Trans Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-17
Updated: 2017-03-17
Packaged: 2018-10-06 20:39:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10344126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roughlycut/pseuds/roughlycut
Summary: He can’t keep himself from crying, tears and snot running down his face, his hands mindlessly rubbing his thighs. A sudden knock on the bathroom stall door makes him jump, his skin crawling with anxiety.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I was made aware that this week is trans Overwatch week (14th - 20th of March). Seeing as I didn't get much inspiration from the prompts (and that all submissions had to be sfw), I asked people on [my twitter](https://twitter.com/BlueEyedMutt) to make suggestions. The following was written based on a suggestion from Vita to write about trans Jesse dealing with his period and trying to hide it.
> 
> This fic was [posted on twitter too](https://twitter.com/BlueEyedMutt/status/842583634611585024), but I've since then made a few changes, including the correct spelling of Fareeha ;)
> 
> Please be aware of the tags and know that this fic has graphic mentions of menstruating.

Jesse feels it the minute he wakes up. The tightness, and slight stab of pain in both sides, of his abdomen as he takes a deep breath. The bloated feeling in his stomach. The soreness of his joints. He takes in a deep breath and sighs, turning his head to glance at his phone. It’s only 6 am.

"Shit.”

He takes in another deep breath, groaning at the increased stabbing sensation. He knew it was coming, knew it had been a while since last time. But he doesn't like to keep track of it. Doesn't want to acknowledge it. Doesn't want to be reminded that despite how far he's come in his life, despite all the positive change, he still gets his fucking period. And of course it had to be now, on camp, with a bunch of kids he doesn’t know. There’s a few from his class, some from his school, but none of them knows and he surely doesn’t want them to.

He ends up lying still for what feels like hours, doesn't dare to move. Afraid to spread his legs. Afraid to see the stains in his underwear. On the mattress. Afraid to stand up and feel that gush that comes from bleeding all night while lying on your back. Afraid he won’t make it down the hall to the shared bathrooms.

His alarm goes off, startles him, sending a nervous shiver down his spine.

“Might as well get up now, Jesse,” he mumbles, “it’s only gonna get worse.”

With determination, he brings his hand down between his legs, touching his crotch through his underwear. There's no feeling of wetness. He takes a quick look at his fingers. No blood. Quickly he throws off the covers and makes a run for the bathroom down the hall, leaving the door to his room open behind him. He grits his teeth as the pain increases, a surprised yell escaping him as he slips on the bathmat lying just past the doorstep. He collides with the door frame, and as he grabs on to it to try and steady himself, he can feel the gush of blood from inside him. It's warm and wet, an uncomfortable and alien feeling. Nausea overcomes him and black spots dance before his eyes. In two quick strides, he's in a stall, on the toilet, underwear pooling at his ankles and head bent slightly forward. He shudders and rubs his hands on his thighs to calm himself, ward off the anxiety as he feels the blood drip from him. He’s got a lump in his throat, and upon realizing there's tears in his eyes, he wipes them away aggressively with the back of his hand.

"Fucking stupid body," he whispers to himself, trying to hold back a sob, "why you gotta ... why gotta be like this!? Why can't you be fucking normal?"

He can’t keep himself from crying, tears and snot running down his face, his hands mindlessly rubbing his thighs. A sudden knock on the bathroom stall door makes him jump, his skin crawling with anxiety.

"Jesse?"

He recognizes Fareeha's voice immediately. She’s from his English class, one of the few whom he regularly talks to. Her normally stern voice is soft and caring.

"Yeah?" he replies, voice thick with tears, hoping she won’t notice. A stab in his abdomen makes him curl around himself with a whimper.

"Are you ... are you okay?"

Jesse considers his options. He's tempted to tell her to piss off, that he's fine, and that she should mind her own business. It really is none of her business. But he's stuck in the stall with blood drenched underwear and no pads. He wipes his nose in the sleeve of his t-shirt.

"No."

"Do you … do you wanna talk ab-"

"No!" Jesse says promptly, cutting her off. Voices from the other kids in the hallway echoes in the bathroom and he feels tears well up in his eyes again. He doesn't want them to come in here, he doesn't want them to know. There's a shuffle outside his stall, followed by the sound of the door to the bathroom closing. He wonders, briefly, if she left, but there's another shuffle as she walks back to his stall. They're both quiet for a bit. Jesse knows he's got to do something, make some kind of decision.

"Fareeha?"

"Yeah?"

"I ... can you get something for me? From my room," he asks, eyes fixated on his own feet. He sniffles.

"Of course. What do you need?" she replies, promptly.

"In my duffle bag by the end of the bed there's a ... a small black bag, with a red zipper. I ... I need that ... but," he hesitates, his throat going dry as the anxiety comes back, "but please don't look ... inside it. Please don't."

"Jesse I would never," she replies promptly, "it's not my business. I just want you to be okay."

He hears the door to the bathroom open and close, feels the anxiety disappear somewhat as he slowly rubs his stomach, trying to ease the pain. He knows the bag with his pads and the extra pair of underwear doesn't have any painkillers in it. So he's going to have to ask one of the teachers, and there's no way in hell they'll give him any medicine if he doesn't tell them what it's for. He considers which one of the teachers is most likely to ask intrusive questions, poke and prod, and see through a faked headache. Considers if it’s best to go to one from his own school, should he be forced to out himself, or if he’ll have better luck with one that doesn’t know him. He buries his head in his hands as he hears the door to the bathroom open.

"Jesse?"

"Still in here," he replies. Fareeha pushes the black bag under the stall door, promptly followed by a clear plastic bag. It's got various pill cases in it.

"Uh, so, I don't know what's wrong, with you I mean. And you don't have to tell me. But, uh, my mom always worries I'll get sick so she loads me up with medicine, just in case. Figured there might be something in there, so..."

Her voice trails off. Jesse opens his mouth to speak, but all that comes out is a strained sob. He just stares down at the pills, tears running down his face.

"Fareeha?" he finally manages, voice shaky.

"Yeah?"

"Thank you."

**Author's Note:**

> I'm currently toying with the idea of making more fics about the Overwatch characters and their dealing with transgender issues like coming out, handling dysphoria, getting surgery etc. etc. I'm not making any promisses, but hopefully it's something I can do.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading! I'd be very happy if you left a comment, just letting me know what you think.  
> You're also welcome to come talk to me on [my tumblr](http://silasthemutant.tumblr.com/) or [my twitter](https://twitter.com/BlueEyedMutt).


End file.
